AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That makes sense to me. The two worlds are vastly different.
“But can’t your stepmother partner with you? You must be talented, sweetheart. Maybe you could put your heads together and come up with something that works for both of you.”
Caitlin sighs. “No, because Fiona’s always been jealous of my talent when it comes to design. Deep inside, she knows she can’t conceptualize, much less draw, sew or cut. So she takes it out on me instead. I think subconsciously, she knows that she has no talent, and uses me as a punching bag for her frustrations.”
I snort with disbelief. “That’s a fucking shame. She should be encouraging you, not putting you down.”
Cait smiles sadly.
“I know, right? But remember, this is my evil stepmother we’re talking about. Fiona doesn’t encourage anyone. I had a sewing machine that my dad bought for me when I was a little girl, but after Dad died, the sewing machine started breaking mysteriously all the time. I’m pretty sure Fiona was trying to sabotage me.”
I frown. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Fiona hated me and she wasn’t shy about letting me know it. Finally, I gave up and put the sewing machine in the closet, relying instead on the ones they had at school. But of course, that came to a stop after graduation because Medina High couldn’t exactly let someone who wasn’t a student use their equipment. Now, I just draw.”
I shake my head. This is such a fucking travesty and this beautiful girl doesn’t deserve the hand she’s been dealt.
“You’ll have to show me your drawings sometime, honey. I’m sure they’re masterpieces.”
Caitlin giggles.
“Hardly, but I do try.”
We’re silent for a moment, but then I speak with a low intensity to my words.
“You know, I know what it’s like to be unwanted too.”
She cocks her head curiously at me.
“What do you mean?”
I think for a moment before speaking because I don’t tell a lot of people about my home life as a kid. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something I advertise either. It makes for great press, and magazines love to harp on the “rags to riches” aspect, but at the same time, I don’t love talking about it because what’s done is done.
“I grew up in a group home,” I finally acknowledge.
She cocks her head at me.
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Yup. My parents were addicts and they couldn’t take care of me, so I bounced from foster home to foster home until finally landing at the group home when I was a freshman in high school.”
“Oh my gosh,” breathes Caitlin. “I’m so sorry.” I nod again.
“It was bad, and a teacher at school saved me. I started taking auto shop as a freshman, and Mr. Plano thought I had real talent. He got me a job at an auto body shop, just something to do on weekends and after school. To be honest, I needed the money and was grateful. I worked there for four years until I started Simpson Auto Parts at nineteen.”
Caitlin blinks. “Wow, Travis. That’s incredible. You have a real rags to riches story.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose I do. Now, Simpson is a massive distributor of car parts all over the US. I even sponsor a NASCAR team, if you can believe it.”
Caitlin nods. “Of course I believe it.”
I sigh. “It would be easy to feel sorry for myself, but in some ways, I developed grit because of my difficult upbringing. I think the same can be said about you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“When I asked you about hobbies, you didn’t mention fashion design, sweetheart. You said something about jogging and keeping in shape?”
Caitlin blushes. “Well, jogging takes time! It’s exercise and a great way to stay healthy. Besides, I’m kind of embarrassed. I’ve obviously never done anything with my designs. I wore some of the clothes I made in high school and sometimes my friend Cammie would wear them too, but that’s it.”
“Well, would you like to pursue it?”
She cocks her head at me again.
“How so?”
I chuckle.
“Sweetheart, I have seven spare bedrooms. We can turn one into a sewing room for you, if you like.” She blushes but her eyes sparkle.
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I think you should pursue fashion design if it’s truly something you’re passionate about.”
She sits back in her chair, her look pensive.
“I don’t know, Travis. Fashion design is a pipe dream for me. I appreciate your support, but I have no formal training, and who would buy the clothes? I was giving my outfits to Cammie for free.”
I merely take her hand in my own.
“That doesn’t mean you should give up.”
Caitlin considers this for a second. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can I think more about it?”
I give her hand a squeeze. “Of course, honey, but I’m going to buy you a sewing machine regardless. I’m at work during the day, so you’ll have time to putter away to your heart’s content while I’m gone.”
